Xenophobia
by WerewolvesAreReal
Summary: Summary; expansion on my oneshot, xenophobia, wherein Mr. Spock is transferred temporarily under a xenophobic Captain Granby and can not communicate with Starfleet or Enterprise. Mutiny is only logical. Angsty, no pairings, rated for language/violence.
1. Chapter 1

**_Summary; expansion on my oneshot, _xenophobia, _where Mr. Spock is transferred temporarily under a xenophobic Captain Granby and can not communicate with Starfleet or Enterprise._**

**_A/N: Does anyone know of any stories like this? If so, please tell me - I'd like to read one as well, but I couldn't find one, so I just had to write it instead. :) Hope you like it. And, to readers of my other stories, I know, I said I wouldn't be starting anything else when I need to update my other stories, but I couldn't help myself!_**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, characters, etc. I make no money off this._**

**_Warnings: Language, violence, angst._**

* * *

Chapter 1

* * *

Jim gripped his shoulder, eyes pained, but said nothing, only giving him a weak smile. McCoy looked awkward - sad but refusing to look regretful and give the 'hobgoblin' anything to use against him.

"It will only be a few months," McCoy finally said. "Don't get yourself killed or hurt where I can't patch you up, got it?" He shifted awkwardly.

"I will certainly endeavour to do so, Doctor." Spock said mildly.

They were all silent. Spock moved from the captain's grasp _not his captain now, but he would _always _be captain _and stepped onto the transporter, nodding to Mr. Scott, who saluted, eyes shining with sorrow.

"Energize."

* * *

A man Spock presumed was Captain Ganby smiled tightly as he beamed aboard the _U.S.S. Defiant. _He did not, despite the gesture, appear pleased, a contradiction which puzzled Spock slightly. The man nodded stiffly.

"Commander Spock."

"Persmission to come aboard, Sir?"

The Captain's smile seemed even more fake now. "Permission granted, Commander."

Spock stepped forward, garnering a flash of a salute from the ensign at the transporter controls, and turned to the captain for instructions.

Due to a rather strange series of events, Spock would be serving as the Science Officer temporarily on this ship, apparently because of some incompetancy in the department. He, as the most renowned Science Officer in the 'fleet, would head the Science Department for three to four months, depending on how much the department improved, at which point he would return to the _Enterprise _after appointing the most promising of the Science crew as the new Science Officer.

"I'll show you to your quarters, Commander." Ganby informed him, coldly. Spock nodded, and Captain Ganby abruptly spun and strode away. Spock matched his stride with ease, keeping right him. He could see Ganby's back stiffening, his stride increasing to a strange speed. His body language indicated anger. Curious.

Ganby stopped abruptly in front of a door. Spock halted seemlessly. Ganby pursed his lips. "These are your quarters. I expect you on the bridge in fifteen minutes for Alpha Shift. You can get settled in later."

Ganby left.

Spock raised an eyebrow at the captain's back, curious. Perhaps the captain was just in a 'bad mood', something which had happened on the Enterprise frequently enough. He dismissed the matter as irrelevant and entered his quarters.

They were strangely small, he noted with some surpise. He could not expect quarters befitting a First Officer here, of course, but on starships rank meant larger quarters, illogical as this might be. This was smaller than those he had had as an ensign. It was quite cramped. It was not at all befitting a Science Officer, but he was sure there was a logical reason for it. In any case, it was of no importance.

He deposited his bags on the floor, then went to the task of trying to neatly distribute his things in the cramped quarters. He would have to meditate sitting on the bed, he noted. There would not be enough room on the floor once he put his trunk there. He hung his lyre on the wall and glanced above him. His head nearly scraped the ceiling - he would have to be careful of that. He left the quarters now, heading to the bridge for his shift.

* * *

Ganby pursed his lips as he waited for the arrogant Vulcan to show up. The sight of his impassive, superior face in the transporter room had been disgusting enough, but he had tried to tell himself to keep calm. This Vulcan seemed determined to irritate him already, though. Hadn't he said to be up in fifteen minutes?

The door opened. Calmly, not at all apologetic, the half-breed stepped onto the bridge, attracting interested looks.

Ganby stood and stepped in front of him, and the Vulcan halted, raising an unnaturally slanted eyebrow. The bridge grew silent.

"Tardiness, Commander, will not be tolerated on this ship."

"I am not tardy, Captain." The nerve of him!

"Did I not say, Commander, that I wanted you up here in fifteen minutes."

"Indeed. It was precisely fifteen minutes past that when I stepped onto the bridge."

"So now you automatically know the time? Down to the second?"

The thing didn't even bat an eyelash. "Yes, Sir."

Ganby clenched his fist, furious. "I will _not _have my officers speaking to me in that manner, Commander! I want to see you after your shift to discuss your attitude - I don't know what they let you get away with on the Enterprise, but things are going to be different here."

Spock gazed up at him, face blank. "Yes, Sir, I do believe they will."

* * *

"So, how's the _Defiant?"_

"Different from the Enterprise," Spock said truthfully.

Jim grinned at him, though the image on the screen flickered slightly. Soon the ships would be so far apart that he would not be able to speak with those on the Enterprise like this. The _Defiant _would be exploring a completely uncharted region of space, and would have virtually no contact with anyone else.

He had only been on the _Defiance _three days, but it was certainly _very _different. The mood was more somber, it seemed to him. These people were on a long mission as well, for three years, and had been in space already for a few months. The humans on _Enterprise_ he knew thought of the ship as their home, but he couldn't recall seeing any of the easy attitudes so common on the Enterprise here.

"Different."

"The crewmembers are strangely serious. Quite different to what I am accustomed to."

Jim stared at him a moment, then his lip started twitching.

"Jim?"

Unable to stop himself now, Jim let out his laughter. "Can't you see the irony there? A _Vulcan _saying the humans are too serious? That's not different, Spock, that's a sign of a serious problem if ever I've heard one."

"I did not say they were _overly _serious, merely moreso than the crew of the Enterprise."

"Sure, right." Jim grinned. "So, is that different in a good way? Should I be worried?"

"I can say truthfully that I prefer the Enterprise."

"'Course you can. Who wouldn't? Well, are you liking the _Defiant, _at least?"

That was harder to answer without upsetting his captain. "I find it... interesting." True enough. He was _very _interested in why the captain of this ship seemed to dislike him. Memories of his first day after Alpha Shift came to him.

_"Sit down."_

_"I would rather not - "_

_"Sit."_

_Spock sat._

_Ganby paced him front of him, redfaced, then abruptly whirled to look at him. "What do you think of us?"_

_"Sir?"_

_"You come up here, looking down your nose at all of us, like you think you're actually _superior, _as if anything could be farther from the truth. I don't want any more attitude from you, am I clear? None of your smart little comments. Stop trying to sound intelligent by 'correcting' by navigator one his calculations - and I know very well you can't be right about all those figures you gave him, don't even try to defend yourself - and stop making such a fuss on my ship."_

_Fuss? The only one who seemed at all affected by his presence was the Captain. He was silent as to his true thoughts, however, and said merely, "Yes, Sir."_

_"Don't you even try to talk to your superior officer in that tone!"_

_Tone? How was he to change his voice? And why was this important. Puzzled, he said, "Yes, Sir."_

_"Are you making fun of me?" Ganby demanded._

_"No, Sir."_

_"Commander, you _will _show proper respect."_

_Was he not already doing so? His mind went back to a lesson on psychology, and he considered what he knew of Terran animals. Was his body language somehow lacking? He had deduced that Ganby wished to be shown that the other was his superior. His uniform alone said as much, which made this puzzling, but he decided to test his hypotheses. Terran animals sometimes bared their neck to signal submission, but he had never witnessed a human perform this action. There was something else... He lowered his eyes to the ground deliberately, and though he did not know how to change his 'tone' he instead made his voice softer. "Yes, Sir."_

_He felt Ganby's eye burning into his head._

_Finally; "That's more like it. I'll teach you proper respect before you leave this ship, I swear it."_

_Spock was not one who put much store in intuition. He would, however, be remiss in saying that he did not feel that the words were disturbingly ominous._

"Well, I heard it's a good ship. Captain's supposed to be a good man, too. Wish you were back here, but you couldn't be on a better ship, otherwise."

The words were not comforting.

* * *

Spock's fourth day began with the Vulcan feeling strangely hollow. It was strange, knowing that he could not talk to Kirk or McCoy or anyone else on the _Enterprise _he had come to be fond of. This was _emotion, _he knew, and he would meditate on it later, but he had already come to terms, privately, with his strange feelings of affection for his crewmates that no Vulcan should have.

He put the strange feelings in the back of his mind as he ascended in the turbolift. When he stepped onto the bridge, he was sure that no emotions of any sort were visible on his face.

Captain Ganby did not acknowledge him, though a few others nodded politely, and he returned these. The Delta-Shift science lieutenant jumped up and saluted, holding himself rigidly, and Spock dismissed him. Keeping his eyes straight ahead, the lieutenant left. The Science crew, well aware of his reasons for being here, were all being overly polite and going to the extreme in everything they did, which had the unfortunate effect of making it difficult to really judge any of them.

Spock occasionally alerted the captain to certain matters he gathered from his sensors. The captain never once so much as looked and him, and the Commander was not spoken to the entire shift.

* * *

Every member of Science stood to attention as the temporary Science Officer entered the labs. Lieutenant Valit very much approved of him - much better than the last Science Officer. Valit had watched helplessly as the last one had let Science go to shambles. This one was much more serious, much more thorough and demanding in his expectations, and though some few might resent him Valit thought most would welcome the structure. Valit allowed a smile to grace his face as the Commander told them to return to their duties, standing to the side to observe. He didn't know how things would be when this one left, but for the next few months, at least, they would finally have a competent science officer, he thought, listening to the Commander quietly advising two of the officers on his right. Yes, he thought he was going to like this Commander Spock.

* * *

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Summary; expansion on my oneshot, **_**xenophobia, **_**where Mr. Spock is transferred temporarily under a xenophobic Captain Granby and can not communicate with Starfleet or Enterprise.**_

_**A/N: Does anyone know of any stories like this? If so, please tell me - I'd like to read one as well, but I couldn't find one, so I just had to write it instead. :) Hope you like it.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, characters, etc. I make no money off this.**_

_**Warnings: Language, violence, angst.**_

* * *

_Seventh Day_

The _Defiant _had come across an inhabited planet while charting the new area. In it was a pre-warp civilization, equivalent to the Earth middle-ages. The inhabitants were similar to humans with random blue patches of skin. They were internally completely different, but outwardly similar. Ganby had decided that a landing party would study the civilization for the day as they finished their scans on the system.

Spock's experience told him that having the ship leave orbit with crew on a planet, however briefly, was generally a bad idea. He said as much to the captain.

"Sir, if I may?"

For the first time in days, Ganby was forced to acknowledge his temporary Science Officer. Spock noted that his body language seemed to suggest anger at the sight of him. "What is it?" He snapped.

"Sir, I believe it is unwise to have the _Defiant _leave orbit while crewmembers are on the surface. If the natives are hostile - "

"If the natives are hostile," Ganby said coldly, "I would expect that you would be able to defend youself, Mr. Spock, and if you can not protect yourself against such a primitive race I seriously suggest you find a new career."

"That they are not yet technologically advanced, Sir, does not mean they could not prove a threat - especially if we mean to uphold the Prime Directive."

"Stop your pessimism, Commander." Ganby snapped, irritated. "What are the chances that they'll harm any of the party?

Spock considered all the variables. "Approximately seventy-nine point four eight six percent, Sir."

"Don't get smart with me, Commander." Spock tilted his head, puzzled. "You're going down to the surface, stop complaining."

"Sir, I am not 'complaining', I am merely..."

"Commander, _shut up."_

Spock fell silent.

"You're going down to the planet. The other are already in the transporter room. Hurry up. And I want to talk to you once you're back."

Spock left.

* * *

_Predictable. _Spock mentally reviewed the prior conversation with Ganby as he was carried to the long wooden post which he would be tied to and burnt on. It was strange how so many worlds evolved so alike. For example, here pointed ears were also a symbol of evil, such as on early Earth, and those who were 'consorting with the devil' in Terran past had also burned at the stake. Currently, he was bound and would be killed momentarily. He somehow doubted he could depend on any miraculous rescues from the _Defiant _as he might with the _Enterprise. _He would have to get out of this himself.

He glanced around as much as he could upside-down. The two science ensigns and two security ensigns were likewise bound, and he caught glimpses of their terrified faces between the people between them.

He was roughly deposited on the ground, and was complacent as he was now rebound to the post. He saw the other four struggling and watched with a raised eyebrow.

One man and a woman, presumably priest and priestess, spoke to the watchers in their native tongue, which without his translator he could not understand. He noted that everyone began hopping up and down as the priest and priestess finished their speech - perhaps their form of applause?

The priestess moved to stand some feet before Spock, and closing her eyes began to speak, her voice a rhythmic chant. The priest, now bearing a torch, approached him. Now was time to put his plan into action, and hope that it did not go ill for he and the ensigns.

Not all Vulcans had much in way of telepathic powers, though they all possessed them to some small degree. Spock, despite being half-human, was uniquely powerful in this aspect, a fact he often used to his advantage.

He reached out now with his mind, straining - Vulcan's were primarily touch-telepaths, after all. He felt the first tendrils of the priest's mind, wild and untamed, and did something he rarely did - he completely took over the priest.

The man stilled, his eyes glazing, then was moving again, now under Spock's control. He continued, normally, and through the priest's mind Spock became aware that the man had a ceremonial blade among his robes.

Strange sounds came from the watchers as the priest dropped the torch (like gasps, Spock thought) and quickly the old alien had retrieved his knife, slicing through Spock's bonds. Leaping forward, Spock gave the man a nerve-pinch deftly, grabbing the knife as he did so and neatly lowering the priest to the ground whilst doing this, ignoring the crowd's alarm. It was regrettable - the crowd may very well burn the old priest for helping them escape - but he had no choice.

Quickly he slit the rope-like material binding the others, who were gaping. The priestess was still chanting, as though unaware of his escape, but several of the crowd were gathering their wits. The last of the ensigns freed, he gestured them away, and they fled together.

Spock halted sooner than he would have liked, knowing that the humans, though fit as any Starfleet officers, were not able to endure so much as a Vulcan. Indeed, they seemed grateful for the respite. As his breathing finally began to even out, one of the science ensigns, Yellin, said, "I can't believe it - why would he just release you like that? Everyone looked pretty surprised, too, it wasn't a usual part of the ceremony."

"He did not do so willingly." She looked at him curiously, as did the others. He explained. "I used telepathy to control his mind so that he would release me."

On the Enterprise, the powers of their resident telepath were a source of some awe and, also, pride. Everyone knew how useful his gifts had so often been. Spock expected perhaps slight interest, but nothing more - certainly not the terror plain on Ensign Yellin's face.

"You _controlled _his _mind?"_

The other's looked equally shocked. "Yes."

One of the security ensigns reached for a phaser, or at least where a phaser would be, looking mortified when he grasped at air. The others sprang up, stumbling, and stepped away. He was a little confused - but then, humans often disliked the unknown, did they not? And psychic powers _were _unknown, at least to these humans.

He could think of nothing to say which he believed would likely assauge their fears, so instead he merely opted for silence. After a moment, the others, staring at him, slowly sat back down on the ground.

Now he spoke. "The _Defiant _should be in orbit in appoximately three point four two hours. As humans are not known for punctuality, perhaps later. They will be able to find our biosigns and beam us aboard, I am sure, if not so quickly as they would if we possessed communicators. I suggest you make yourselves comfortable. I will hear anyone approaching, though it is unlikely we will be pursued here. It would be unwise to move to conduct further studies."

They averted their eye _Briefing room Ganby why does he want that? _and nodded.

They did not speak for all of the four point seven nine one hours before they were beamed aboard.

* * *

"_What?"_

Spock's first response was to ask if the captain's hearing had been damaged, or to repeat himself. However, he deduced that the captain may take this to be more 'smart talk' and refrained. He was silent. As he had predicted, the captain had, indeed, heard him correctly.

"You _took over their minds?"_

"Negative. I only took over the mind of one individual, Sir."

"So you say!" Ganby looked furious. "What witchcraft is this?"

"Sir, all Vulcans possess a certain amount of telepathic ability - "

"_Every _one of you things can do this?" The other bridge officers watching the tirade looked a little nervous.

"Not precisely, Sir. I am unusually skilled in this regard."

"Go to the briefing room. Now."

"Sir?"

"Briefing room!"

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

The navigator, Lieutenant Welkis, exchanged troubled looks with First-Officer Roland. He had never seen the Captain so furious! Oh, the captain had a bit of a temper, and it was whispered he wasn't so fond of aliens, but never had he seen him so blindly cruel to a crewman. Why did he act like this to the Commander? The guy was a little intimidating, a little stiff, but otherwise he seemed fine to Welkis - that was just how Vulcans were.

He had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

Spock believed that this might be the human feeling of 'Deja Vu'.

Ganby was pacing, again (Jim did that, sometimes, though he did not understand the habit.)

"You took over his mind."

Spock said nothing, his eyes following the captain warily.

"You _took over his mind, _you demonic bastard. Do you do that here, too? With others? With me?"

_My parents were married at my birth, _he thought but did not say. McCoy had used that insult often, but never had he detected any truly negative feelings behind the words, unlike in this situation. "I do not. I would be incapable of maintaining the hold for longer than a few seconds. I assure you I have done no such thing on this ship."

"Then you have on your ship?" Spock was not given a chance to respond. "I wonder how much Kirk knows about you?" Ganby snorted derisively, face dark. "And should I take the word of an unreliable alien, hmm? You're not to use those damnable powers again."

"Sir," he sould not keep his silence at this. "It was necessary to the mission - "

"Necessary! Necessary! It wouldn't have been necessary if you hadn't gone and gotten yourself captured, you incompetent!"

Spock felt mildly insulted, a rare feeling for him. "Sir, it was quite impossible, given the situation."

"I don't want to hear your excuses!"

"Sir, I am not - "

"How _stupid _are you?"

"My IQ - "

"You are my subordinate - I order you to be silent!"

Spock obeyed.

Ganby was growing increasingly furious. How _dare_ this thing presume he could take over the minds of others? He held no love for aliens, much less primitives like those of the planet below, but he was developing a special loathing for this one in particular.

"You _took over their minds?" ? _He was shouting, and in front of all his senior officers, too, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

"Negative. I only took over the mind of one individual, Sir."

"So you say!" Ganby was furious. Who knew what this devil-eared creature was capable of? "What witchcraft is this?"

"Sir, all Vulcans possess a certain amount of telepathic ability - " Disgust filled him.

"_Every _one of you things can do this?" The other bridge officers watching the tirade looked a little nervous.

"Not precisely, Sir. I am unusually skilled in this regard."

Of _course _he was - he was even worse than the rest of his lot.

"Go to the briefing room. Now."

He was yelling at the science officer, barely registering what he was saying. He saw red, red, and the idiot was _still speaking, _how _dare _he mouth off to his superior _in more than rank _like this?

He told it to be silent, and finally it listenened, but his anger did not abate, and he was yelling, and then - was he trying to speak? After an order not to? The green-blooded thing opened his mouth, and without even thinking of what he was doing he had struck it across the face.

Ganby's anger vanished. Cold shock raced through him.

They would never let him be captain after striking a subordinate, alien or not. His career was tenuous enough at best all ready, after that hushed-up scandal last year. He was ruined, and all because of _this thing..._

The last time Spock had felt more shocked was when he had thought he had killed the Captain _real captain, not this one, nothing like Ganby, _and while that had been much worse, not to be compared to this, he had not felt such an unguarded emotion in a long time.

Seemingly of their own volition his fingers were prodding at the tender flesh of his cheek where he had been struck. Being surpised on missions or such no longer brought him any surprise, mild or great, but this...

Ganby could not do such a thing. "Sir, you understand I must report you for this."

Ganby was staring at him, blankly, looking pale. He did not seem to have heard him.

"Sir?"

* * *

"Sir?"

Ganby looked at the Vulcan before him, clutching his cheek and looking at him with slightly widened eyes, the first damned emotion he had shown this whole trip... And suddenly his worry left. A cold, steely resolve came over him, the likes of which he had never before felt, and he was speaking, mind racing.

"You are to see the medical staff and have that healed. You merely slipped in your quarters. You will say nothing of this to anyone."

* * *

"You are to see Dr. Harcourt and have that healed. You merely slipped in your quarters. You will say nothing of this to anyone."

Spock felt even more confused, and now just a little apprehensive. "That, Sir, is not logical. I will tell Starfleet exactly what has - "

"No, you will not. You can not send any recorded messages without the Communications Officer approving, no one can, and I can overrule her and stop them anyway. You have no proof of anything but your word. You can do nothing on this ship; I am the captain, even if _you _can't seem to realize it, and I will be supported if you make any claims. You will have no evidence by the time we return."

Spock felt strangely confused. Ganby was correct. His mind searched for a logical, immediate means to get out of this that would not end badly for him. He found none.

"...Understood, Sir."

A bit of smugness was shown in Ganby's face. "What did I say about respect, Commander?"

Spock was silent for a moment. His pride - and he did have pride, did have honor, for those at least were very Vulcan - rebelled against this man, but... it would not be logical. The safest thing would be to wait until he could leave _Defiant._

He lowered his eyes, and his voice was soft. "Yes, Sir."

* * *

**Don't worry - can you really see him just taking that? Hint, hint.**

**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

Summary; expansion on my oneshot,

xenophobia, _where Mr. Spock is transferred temporarily under a xenophobic Captain Granby and can not communicate with Starfleet or Enterprise._

**_A/N: Does anyone know of any stories like this? If so, please tell me - I'd like to read one as well, but I couldn't find one, so I just had to write it instead. :) Hope you like it. And, to readers of my other stories, I know, I said I wouldn't be starting anything else when I need to update my other stories, but I couldn't help myself!_**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, characters, etc. I make no money off this._**

**_Warnings: Language, violence, angst._**

* * *

C3

After the disturbing meeting in the briefing room, Spock returned to his quarters (he was starting to be suspicious about why they were really so small) and now attempted to reach the Enterprise. He could not send a recorded message, however, and the Enterprise was, as he predicted, not close enough for the usual real-time message. Starfleet, of course, could also not be reached, nor even any Starbases or other Federation vessels - they were in an uncharted, unexplored region of space, and that meant _no one _could be contacted. He would have no choice but to try and survive on the _Defiant _until he could find a way to leave.

The _Defiant's _CMO, Doctor Harcourt, was slightly surprised when a Vulcan walked into her sickbay. "Commander! Hello, have you been enjoying your time on the _Defiant?" _She waved away a nurse, flashing him a cheerful smile, but this faltered a moment later. "What happened to your face?"

_Proper respect no smart talk subordinate you can't do a thing... _"Irrelevant. A minor incident. If you would be so kind...?"

"Of course..." looking a little bewildered, she raised a dermal regenerator to his face, and the marred skin healed under the instrument. "There, that was simple enough - might be a little tender for a while, however. _How _exactly did you...?"

Spock was quite capable of lying; he did not, however, like doing so. "If you will excuse me, Doctor, I am quite busy. Thank you." He turned and was out the door before she could blink.

Doctor Harcourt folded her arms, pursing her lips in thought.

That bruise, she thought slowly, had looked suspiciously like a hand-mark...

* * *

On the starship _Enterprise, _Captain James Kirk grimaced slightly once Scotty left his quarters. He was the best Chief Engineer he had ever known; as a First Officer, however, he left much to be desired... Well, he thought, a little abashedly, that wasn't completely fair. He couldn't compare Scotty to the best First in the 'fleet.

He sighed. He missed Spock already; he couldn't imagine three to four months of this!

* * *

Spock sat on his small regulation bed, cross-legged, with a small, special candle in front of him, put in a small cage that would protect anything from catching on fire if it fell as the ship was fired upon, or any such thing.

He thought on the events of the past week. He considered what had happened, the reasons, and the implications, and finally what would likely happen next. The last was simple to determine.

Ganby would not stop at this - and he could not allow the captain to go any farther. Who knew what he might be able to do if Spock waited the weeks, perhaps months, before he could obtain outside aid? He had to act.

It would take some time and planning, he knew, and he would be breaking regulation, but he'd learned from the best.

* * *

Step One: Allies.

The next day he left after an hour or so on the bridge to check on the Science Department; Ganby did not even acknowledge him leaving.

Sharp brown eyes sized up each person who saluted even as he bid them to return to their duties. One in particular caught his eye, a lieutenant who had applied himself admirably to all tasks he had so far performed during Spock's brief stay, and one who had always seemed quite respectful. He approached the lieutenant, recalling his name as he did so.

"Lieutenant Valit." The surprised lieutenant turned to him, surpised, and flashed him a smile as he straightened.

"Sir?"

"Lieutenant, what was your opinion on the previous Science Officer?"

Valit huffed. "He was... poor, Sir. Very low standards. Not very knowledgeable, either, had no idea what he was doing, Sir. He was terrible at the management, too. Could never figure out the paperwork or anything, and half the time no one was doing anything because he just forgot to give them an assignment. Frankly, Sir, it was a relief when he was relieved - ah, no pun intended."

He inclined his head."I see. Thank you."

He was silent; humans often felt the need to speak at silence, and he was not disappointed. "So, are you enjoying the change of scenery, Sir?" Valit asked cheerfully, marking something down on his padd.

"It has proved to be... interesting... though in way of duties there is little difference, save that I am no longer First Officer."

"First Officer _and _Science Officer..." Valit shook his head in admiration. "Roland seems run down just by his duties, can't imagine him running a department as well."

"It is not so difficult; I do not require so much sleep as a human."

Valit's eyes flickered from the padd, interested. "Really? How much?"

"A Vulcan can last several weeks, as much as two months or more, without sleep and still be functioning adequetely, though certainly not optimally."

"We could use more officers like that," Valit said, glancing around with amusement at a nearly-dozing ensign, head bowed over his microscope and nodding. "I've heard Kirk is a fabulous Captain. What do you think of Ganby?"

Spock noted an inflection in his tone as he spoke of Ganby; cautioun, perhaps? Disdain? There were several emotions there. "I find Ganby to be... a poor choice as a Captain."

This was risky, but Valit did not look affronted, if he seemed a little surpised. "Oh? Why?"

Spock tapped at his padd several times, so Valit would not be so suspicious of his 'random' choice to talk, and answered. "I have in the past encountered those who have not 'liked' myself, and have treated me with some hostility. These I must resign myself to as unavoidable. Such clear xenophobia in a starship officer, much less a captain, however, is quite a different matter."

"Xenophobia?" This time Valit did look shocked. "Toward you."

"Yes; it seems illogical that someone xenophobic would be picked for a Starfleet captain expected to interact with other species." He tapped the screen of his padd again (it was blank, but Valit didn't need to know that) and then glanced around. "I believe I will return to the bridge, if you will excuse me...?"

A little thoughtful now (and was that anger?) Valit nodded distractedly, and Spock left.

_Success._

* * *

The seed of suspicion planted in at least one person's mind, Spock knew that Valit would be easier later to convince to help him, if necessary, and judging by the looks the female ensign behind Valit had been giving them, he imagined that what he had said would soon be around the _Defiant _via gossip - and, if he understood correctly, according to Jim and Dr. McCoy gossip often grew exaggerated in the retelling. Soon people would be saying that Ganby had struck him for being alien - which, though many might not believe it, actually _was _the truth.

He went to the bridge now. Ganby did not acknowledge him, though Roland inclined his head politely. The navigator and pilot looked at him, but while the navigator flashed him a smile, the pilot looked less than pleased. He made a mental note of this.

He took over from the Science lieutenant and began making and assessing the scans, but even as he did so his mind was on his plans.

* * *

CRACK

His suspicions had proved correct; Ganby, now emboldened by his apparent success and invulnerability, had not hesitated to take Spock into the briefing room (the sight of which, illogically, gave him now a strange twinge of fear) and harangue him over small 'offences' he had apparently given the Captain during his shift, as well as reprimand him for 'disrupting' the bridge. This time he did not attempt to choose his answers carefully, speaking boldly; it might seem masochistic, but to gain support, it was necessary.

"Sir." He looked up at Ganby evenly. Despite this, he could not seem to lessen the too-rapid beating of his heart. "I find your apparent solution to my 'disruptions' to be quite primitive."

A bruising grip on his arm pulled him up roughly, shoving him toward the door. "_Confined to quarters - _look at me!"

Spock did so, raising an eyebrow. Ganby's brow twitched, but so far, at least, Spock sensed at least of modicrum of wariness from the man toward these actions - he did not need to be overly apprehensive.

Ganby glowered, eyes burning into him with dark, savage intent, and after a moment Spock understood what he awaited.

He lowered his eyes. "I will go to my quarters, Sir."

"Good."

The door hissed shut behind him.

_Fascinating._

* * *

Two hits this time, though the angry hand-shaped bruise on his forearm surely could be counted as well. One on his face, one a more discrete, a punch to the stomach.

Step Two could begin.

* * *

In the halls, he attracted stares, voices trailing off as crewman caught sight of him. He made sure to stop by Science before going to the bridge.

The officers saluted as always, automatically, taking in sharp breaths as the sight of him. He waved them at ease - only two dropped their salutes at first, the rest staring.

Slowly they moved back to their work, eyes lingering. Valit alone dared to approach him.

"Sir, are you alright? What happened?" The human looked concerned. He had chosen well; he thought he would have been able to find a true friend in this human, given time, by what he had seen; but right now he would have to be more concerned of his safety.

He did not pretend to misunderstand. "The captain became... upset."

"The _captain _did that?" Shocked, his voice was loud and carried, and a few glanced at them, startled. He lowered his voice, though Spock had been hoping for that. "The _captain?"_

"Indeed. Would you be so kind as to distribute this update of the shift-changes? I am due on the bridge."

"I - of course, Sir."

"Thank you." He left before Valit could say another word.

When he reached the bridge, you could have heard a pin drop.

Ganby had not looked at him, but he could not help but notice the silence and stares, and despite himself he turned around.

His eyes widened.

Spock continued to his seat as though oblivious, though this was far from the truth. After what he deemed a suitable time adjusting the instruments at his station amid the silence, quiet but for the faint whirrs of the machinery, he stopped as though noticing something and turned around, looking about as though puzzled.

"Is there a problem?"

Blinking rapidly, Roland seemed to come to himself. "What happened to you??"

As always, his Vulcan physiology was to his advantage; though the bruise would have looked serious on even a human, coloration and severity of bruises differed in Vulcans due to their blood, and his looked all the worse to humans because of it - his left cheek was blotched with a black bruise, suspiciously hand-shaped.

"Happened?" He feigned innocence, but the flustered Ganby interrupted.

"Science Officer, with me!" he snapped.

Spock lowered his eyes. "Yes, Sir."

Ganby seemed to realize his mistake, starting a little and glancing uneasily at the others, then quickly striding off the bridge. Spock did not need to look about to imagine the suspicion on the crew's faces.

Humans were delightedly predictable.

* * *

In the briefing room, the sight of which made his chest icy (strange, this association of the room and fear - he would meditate on it) he was told by Ganby, in a furious hiss, to _discretely _get his face healed in Sickbay, or damned if Ganby wouldn't make him regret it. He was strangely uneasy, though he could not pinpoint the reason, but now it was almost an immediate reaction for him to lower his eyes before the captain... He would think on this later as well.

He had no qualms of leaving for Sickbay, though he did not perhaps get there as discretely as Ganby had wished, instead taking as long a route as he dared, allowing numerous crewmen to see him. He entered Sickbay several minutes later.

Harcourt's eyes widened when she saw him. "Sir!"

This time she looked quite more concerned. "What - Sir, come into my office, if you will?"

"Doctor." He inclined her head, entering her office as she ushered him in, indicating a seat before her desk. He sat calmly.

He was not surprised when, before running a dermal regenerator over her face, she took a picture of him. He did not point had that he was keeping his own documentation of his accumulating injuries in his quarters.

"Commander, I need to know exactly what is going on," she said, voice firm with the authority all CMO's seemed to possess. "Would I be correct in guessing that you got this by the same means as the last?"

"An astute observation."

"Hm. Who gave you these?"

"I do not think you will believe me." She opened her mouth to object even as she moved to put the regenerator away, but he raised a hand. "If you do not mind...?" He pushed back his sleeve, and her face darkened. She ran it over his arm.

"Anywhere else?"

He lifted his shirt slightly, and her lips pursed and nearly disappeared. Finally able to put the machine away, she continued, voice full of barely contained fury. "Obviously, these were caused by someone intentionally."

"Obviously."

"But I won't believe you."

"I do not think so." Well, he was not _quite _above lying when it was necessary.

"Try me."

She stared at him, eyes dark with suppressed anger, and after a moment, he nodded. "Captain Ganby."

"We'll involve him, of course - who was it?"

"Captain Ganby."

She paused, looking half-confused, half stunned as realization came on her. "The Captain?" Her face reddened with fury, and her voice went to a near shriek. "The _Captain?"_

"Indeed."

"Well." She struggled for a moment. "Well. Well. We'll see about _that. _I'll relieve him of duty immediately, obviously there's something wrong..."

"I think, Doctor, that you will find that this is not so simple as you believe. I do not believe his mental state is any different than it has ever been; you will find no irregularities in your evaluations of the captain, and without medical evidence of his instability - "

"I have _you _as evidence, don't I?"

"Indeed. However, not all of the crew will accept this. Furthermore, to declare a captain unfit while not in an emergency three officers of level grey clearance are required to declare an officer unfit for duty. On this ship that leaves myself, yourself, the captain, and the first officer. I can not count, as I am the 'victim'..."

"So we would need to inform Starfleet. That's simple enough."

"All outgoing recorded communications are being monitored."

"Then to hell with regulation - Starfleet will understand when this is over. What else are we supposed to do?"

"I fear it will not be so simple. There will be many who will support the captain, regardless of any evidence presented. He will refuse to be taken from command, and with support of many of the ship, there would only be one way to stop him."

Harcourt took a deep breath, running a hand through brown-grey hair. "Mutiny."

"Mutiny," he agreed.

* * *

**Please Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Summary; expansion on my oneshot, _xenophobia, _where Mr. Spock is transferred temporarily under a xenophobic captain._**

**_Because it's just too easy to see Spock so clinically gaining allies and mutinying. :)_**

**_Disclaimer: Again, I do not own Star Trek or people, places, etc. etc._**

C4

Harcourt had said little else. After taking a few moments where she seemed to come to terms with the idea of mutiny, the ultimate blasphemy on a starship, she asked if he had any plans; he informed her, honestly, that he was attempting to first make people suspicious of the captain before openly approaching anyone else. She agreed with this plan and promised to do the same, though she seemed troubled still. He could not hold blame on her for that, however.

He returned to the bridge, garnering more than one assessing look as he went about his duties. He was relieved when Ganby did not call him to the briefing room again, apparently still cautious after the scene on the bridge earlier. He retreated to his quarters, settling once more on his bed to meditate.

For the first time that day he allowed himself to forget about his plans, just for awhile, and considered instead the strange emotions he had felt that day.

First, the briefing room. Why did the sight of it cause fear in him? And the sight of the captain now, as well? It was illogical. He had before faced greater hurts, greater tortures, much more dismal fates than this. Why would this, of all things, cause him such worry when he had faced such things? He was Vulcan - his people were well known for their strength in such matters. Why did this affect him so?

He searched for the answer, considering what he knew of psychology, the beginnings of these feelings, and their possible sources.

Mostly, he focused on the first incident, where Granby's anger had first manifested itself so physically. He recalled now the feeling - _hurtshockconfusedbetrayal._

Betrayal - was that it? He decided it was. He had trusted Starfleet and her officers. The thought of one of the captains being capable of such cruelty had obviously had a deeper psychological effect than a similar incident would if the attacker was unknown to him.

_This _was why Vulcans shut away emotion.

* * *

Docter Harcourt sank to her chair as the Commander left, burying her face in her hands and wondering what she was going to do.

She couldn't mutiny, but she_ had _to. What choice was there? Yes, Ganby was her superior, her captain, but he _also _had been abusing his authority and his crew, at least one of them, physically and verbally. She was a _doctor; _it was her job to heal the hurts of the crew. She could not _let _them become hurt. She would help the Commander.

_Mutiny. _The word left a bitter taste in her mouth.

* * *

_Tenth Day_

The next day's Alpha shift passed mostly without incident, with Spock discretely watching the crew's behavior. Ganby did deign to speak with him this day, coldly and rudely, and he saw the Navigator, First Officer, and Communications Officer casting the captain troubled looks at these times, along with mostly anyone else on the bridge sans the pilot.

It occurred to Spock that he had not seen any other aliens on the ship.

Spock had been nothing but perfectly respectable the entire shift, this he was sure of. Nonetheless he found himself being ordered to meet the captain in the briefing room (cue strange icy feeling) which caused Roland, overhearing, to look at him oddly.

He walked away from that room some twenty minutes later with four new bruises, none of which were visible, and a strange feeling in his abdomen that told him a rib had been cracked with one of those bruises. Ganby had ordered him to avoid suspicion and not visit sickbay. He ignored this order.

Harcourt did not look surpised to see him, though certainly displeased. Spock saw that the nurses watched him with worry when they thought he could not see them. Harcourt had been talking, then, as she had said. Good.

She did not bother trying to be discrete now; to help the rumors, she treated his new wounds in full sight of everyone in the main Sickbay, including the cracked rib. The nurses seemed to be watching attentively. He thought his plans might come to fruition even sooner than he had hoped.

* * *

_Eleventh Day._

Today, after Spock left the briefing room (two bruises on stomach, broken finger) he was prepared to go again to Sickbay when he was stopped by the navigator, Lieutenant Welkis. He paused as the other approached him, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

The navigator lifted his chin boldly. "Sir, would you care to join me the mess hall?"

Spock's first thought was that he would have a chance to speak with more people to turn against Granby. The second was realizing that he had not eaten in twelve days - and while he had gone much longer, as a Vulcan, that was not exactly healthy.

"That would be agreeable."

He accompanied Welkis to the mess hall. After retrieving some Plomeek Soup from the replicators he sat next to Welkis. This seemed to be some sort of signal, for it seemed that suddenly within the next three minutes the table had been ambushed, with everyone glancing at him not-so-unobtrusively.

For the time, however, they seemed to yet be gathering the courage to speak with him, instead chatting amongst themselves and apparently trying to seem casual. The conversation itself was... interesting.

"Have you heard what the captain did? I hear he was trying to flirt with that poor yeoman, Emma Barns, again, and... well, I hear he was rather _insistent," _the crewman said pointedly. Her friend looked disgusted, but.. unsurprised? Interesting. He doubted the truth of this statement, of course - rumors, as he had learnt, often were far from the mark - but it _was _a sign that the crew did not hold much trust in their captain; this would make his task much easier. He realized that he had, subconsciously, been equating the loyalty of this crew as to that of the _Enterprise _to Jim; but that was not necessarily accurate.

"Come off it," another said. "He wouldn't dare, not after what happened last year, he's been treading lightly since then."

"As he should be," a man wearing blue growled. He recognized him from Science, crewman Sarns. "How he even kept his command..."

Spock was interested, but an ensign wearing red - a member of security - said, coldly, "I'm _sure _you're not talking ill of the _captain, _are you?"

A pause.

"..Of course not."

There was an awkward silence from those he was eavesdropping on, and suddenly someone was speaking to him. "So, Commander, what have you been up to? I haven't seen you in here before..."

Now he had to make pleasantries, for a time, it seemed. Informing them truthfully that he had not eaten in twelve days appalled them, and he was quick to reassure the others that Vulcans could quite easily go as long and even longer without sustenance, as he had before.

"Like when?" Welkis asked.

"On one occasion, I did not eat for nine weeks, two days when the captain was left behind on a planet; as our duties forced us to - "

"What happened to your finger?" Someone interrupted. There were quick gasps as eyes were drawn to it, and he forced back the urge to draw back his hand.

"Is it _broken?" _Welkis asked, horrified. It was rather unsightly now, swollen and bent unnaturally.

"Yes, I believe it is," Spock observed mildly.

"Shouldn't you get that treated?"

"How did it break?" Welkis interrupted. "It was fine on the bridge, and I walked with you here right after you left your talk with the captain in the - briefing room..."

A confused look came over his face now, his mind immediately supplying an answer that he refused to accept.

"Indeed," was all Spock said.

There was a strange pause, everyone at the table gazing around, disconcerted, and after collecting himself (but still looking rather baffled,) Welkis stood abruptly. "I'll walk with you to Sickbay to get that set."

Spock did not argue. They left now, the table slowly returning to life behind them. When they reached Sickbay, Harcourt didn't even glance at Welkis. "_Again? _I'm going to - I _swear..." _She set the bone herself and fixed it, warning him that it would still be fragile and liable to break for a few days, so for her sake keep the other hand in front of him while he spoke with the captain, please? She stalked away. Spock knew her fury was quite sincere. He also knew her 'slip' was not so coincidental.

"Captain..."

Spock nodded to Welkis politely. "It was kind of you to come with me," he said neutrally. "If you will excuse me...?"

Welkis seemed to look past him, nodding dumbly. Spock left calmly, eyes straight ahead even as he acknowledged from the corner of his eyes the horrified nurses watching.

Yes, his plans were certainly going quicker than he had expected.

* * *

_Twelfth day._

Spock had not entered the Science labs at all the previous day, and now as he did so he was immediately accosted by Valit, flanked by two other science officers. They all wore identical looks of determination.

"Sir, may I speak with you?"

He expressed not even the slightest hint of emotion. "Of course."

He followed the three through several rooms of the Science Department until finally they came to a deserted one. Valit stepped forward as the door first, taking a deep breath. The other two looked equally grim.

"Sir, from what you've said the other day, and what I've heard about from others, I'm going to say the '_captain_' is not so fond of you."

"A reasonable assumption."

"Sir, has been _psysically _abusing his authority?" Valit's voice was hushed, as though timid, but his eyes burned.

"Indeed."

Valit did not look surprised, though he clenched his teeth. "I can't..." he took a breath. "Why haven't you said anything?"

"Whatever accusations I have would need to go through Starfleet. Otherwise, the captain _could _be apprehended, but he would refuse, and if he did not comply I have no doubt that he could convince others - at least security, who are rightly loyal to the captain whatever the circumstances - to let him be. And, more than likely, the consequences for my attempts would be... less than favourable."

Valit looked at him for a long moment. He was silent, quicker on the uptake than Harcourt. "But you're not going to let this go on," Valit finally concluded.

"I am not."

Valit glanced behind him to the other two, who nodded grimly. He turned back. "Sir, we've been thinking among the same lines since we became suspicious. We've asked around; Science is with you, whatever the consequences."

The Science department and likely medical, and at least a pilot...

That, however, still left one vital area; Engineering.

* * *

_Day Thirteen._

Returning to his quarters after leaving Sickbay (four new bruises, cracked jaw) he there encountered Valit and two different science officers specializing in computer sciences. Coming inside his room (Valit's face had twitched a little at the size, though he had not commented) he explained that they thought it would be best to find a way to corral the dissenters onto some of the unneeded decks and lock them in with the systems until they could reach another Starfleet vessel. Spock had been considering such a thing himself, but was pleased at Valit's initiative; obviously, he had chosen well. Valit and the others with Spock now went back down to the labs. Valit mentioning in a quiet whisper that all of Science was in the know and would support them when the time came. Indeed, no one seemed surprised to see them on the Beta-Shift, and no one reacted at all when they went about the business of setting up the take-over of the ship.

* * *

_Day Fourteen._

After leaving Sickbay (five bruises) he decided to detour to Engineering. There he met with the chief engineer, Lieutenant-Commander Justiv.

That meeting, however, did not prove so fruitful. Justiv, when casually enquired, seemed to be fond of the captain, or at least unlikely to mutiny. All though, he himself was a rather abrasive person - his subordinates did not seem fond of him.

He would have thought longer on how to convince him, but instead decided that Justiv was not needed, as long as enough of engineering could be swayed. He had a feeling this one would take many days, and he was starting to grow anxious. On Valit's recommendation of intuitive individuals, he selected four science officers and 'assigned' them to the duty of finding and convincing likely engineering converts. They took their duties seriously.

* * *

_Day Fifteen._

Ganby had gone into a full fury over some recorded report that had reached them from Starfleet. He bore fourteen bruises, one broken rib, and a black eye. He carefully, painfully documented them before preceeding to Sickbay, where Harcourt first did the same. Harcourt had healed his bruises, then looked at him silently.

"Soon," was all he said.

* * *

_Day Sixteen_

Valit reported that Science was becoming increasingly hostile to security, who were starting to get suspicious. The four officers 'assigned' to Engineering were so far making some progress; fifteen had already been singled out and 'converted' successfully. It seemed no one had much fondness for the captain or Justiv. It wouldn't be hard to get more, he assured. Medical pledged their complete support and began setting up some aid of their own for the mutiny.

Seven bruises.

* * *

_Day Seventeen_

Black eye. Broken wrist.

* * *

_Day Eighteen_

He approached Roland and the Communications Officer and told them, flat out, what he meant to do, explaining the circumstances and presenting evidence. Roland refused to help, but before he could nerve-pinch him he also said that he would remain neutral; he wanted no part in this, and that Spock accepted, at least. The Communications Officer reluctantly agreed, though it took much urging.

It seemed that Ganby's demeanour was, interestingly, becoming worse - and not just to Spock. As though emboldened by his apparent invulnerability, he was much more harsh to the crew, though certainly he did not act like he did with the Vulcan. Still, it did well in cementing the loyalties of the other mutineers. Despite the likelihood of severe repercussions from Starfleet, the crew was determined to get rid of Ganby.

* * *

_Day Twenty-one_

He had meant to wait another day or so, to finalize the preperations, but it seemed that this wasn't necessary.

On the bridge at the time of the incident were two science ensigns (both rather large), the Communications Officer, Roland, Ganby, Spock, Welkis, the pilot, two yeomans, and one member of engineering.

Ganby had been in a particularly bad mood that day, as everyone noticed. He was snappy enough that everyone's tempers were frayed, but part way through the shift he had, perhaps predictably, focused his anger on his favored target.

Part way through a not-so-veiled insult on Spock's parentage, one of the science crewman, Sarns, finally snapped. He had been one who had been particularly fanatic about the upcoming mutiny (there had been a few reference here again to a scandal the past year and the man's cousin, though as of yet he had no details still) and it seemed to be to much for him. Striding up to the captain, he smashed a fist right into his face.

Chaos.

The pilot and one of the yeomans sprang up. Before they could converge on Sarns the engineer and Welkis had pinned them, and the Communications Officer immediately opened a ship-wide channel as Spock moved forward to nerve-pinch them and the captain.

"All members of security to decks 15-17! Everyone else not ordered otherwise beforehand decks 18-19!" These floors were only filled with quarters, and had already been fixed. Once the force-fields were activated in the entrances, they would be trapped.

"Be on these decks within five minutes and await orders!"

It began quickly. The puzzled officers hurried to these orders. The mutineers had already been 'ordered otherwise' and continued their tasks, trying to seem casual. Five minutes later the force fields were up and Valit called Communications, confirming that the new features installed in the computers would make it impossible for any but Spock, Valit himself, Welkis, and Harcourt to take control. Valit came up to join them on the bridge.

"Ah..." The Communications Officer winced as her instruments began shrieking as she was bombarded with calls from the decks 15-19. She shut off their communications ability, sighing with relief.

It occurred to Spock that this was the first mutiny on a Starfleet vessel in history not prompted by some strange disease or mind-controlling aliens. The thought was... unsettling.

Spock sat in the Captain's chair, tapping the comm. button. "Spock to engineering. Is the area secure?"

"Aye aye, Sir."

The other areas of the ship said likewise. Spock nodded toward Welkis and the temporary pilot, one of his Science lieutenants. Science and Medical were posted in most areas, as his most trusted on this ship. "Warp Six, to the nearest StarBase. Communications Officer, please send the pre-recorded message to Starfleet explaining the circumstances."

"Aye aye, Sir."

* * *

_Day Twenty-Three._

"Sir! There's a Federation vessel approaching!"

Spock sat straighter in his seat, as did everyone else. The atmosphere had been tense, but so far nothing of interest had happened since the quick take-over.

"Magnify."

Indeed, a starship was approaching - and one Spock knew very well.

"_Fascinating."_

"Sir, the _Enterprise_ is hailing us."

He didn't even hesitate. "On screen."

The familiar bridge of the _Enterprise _was shown, with the senior officers - including his _true _captain - staring at him with surprise, and also delight.

"Spock!" Jim grinned at him. "What's the _Defiant _doing here? Where is the captain?"

Spock felt a strange chill take over him, but his face was smooth and blank. "Sir, I have assumed command of the Defiant. Ganby has been locked in the brig."

* * *

Jim was delighted to see his first officer, but Spock's words made him stare, confused.

As his mind took in what he had said, it occurred to him that of the twelve people on the bridge, nine of them wore Science-blue.

"...Spock?"

His first officer's face was totally blank. "The crew mutinied and has been under my command as of 1300 hours two days ago, Captain. We have contacted Starfleet explaining the circumstances; however, I believe it would be appropriate for you to hold me in the brig and take command of the _Defiant _until Starfleet says otherwise."

* * *

**Reviews?**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. I know it isn't as long as usual, but it was difficult to write, this one.**

**Disclaimer; I do not own Star Trek, characters, places, items, etc. etc. etc., and so on.**

* * *

Chapter 5

* * *

"...You have to admit, this is _completely _a Spock thing to do."

"Bones, please shut up."

The room was silent for a moment. They sat in the dark, the captain and CMO, until a brief whistle of the intercom broke the silence. After a moment Jim stirred, standing to go punch the comm. button wearily. "Captain here."

"Sir, Commander Spock has beamed aboard with Chief Medical Officer Harcourt and Lieutenant Valit of the _U.S.S. Defiant."_

"...Thank you. Send them to the briefing room, Kirk out."

* * *

Scott looked at Spock, a tight smile on his face. "Nice to see you again, Sir." He said. "Captain is waiting for you in the briefing room with Dr. McCoy, and I'll be up in a jiffy."

"...thank you, Mr. Scott."

His heart was beating fast, though he had been fine just moments before. He moved to the door, mechanically, and led the way to the turbolift, attracting surprised stares and smiles from the crew. As the turbolift rose he tried to find the reason for his sudden apprehension, but it was difficult. His body was cold - were his hands shaking? Harcourt put a hand on his shoulder, lightly, and it occurred to him that they were going to the _briefing room - _but was he really falling prey to such an illogical association with that room in pain?

The lift stopped, the door opened, and Spock's breath hitched involuntarily as he saw the briefing room door.

Yes, apparently he was.

He entered, Harcourt and Valit close behind. The Captain stood, hands behind his back, unsmiling.

"Mr. Spock. Sit down, please."

He sat automatically, and Harcourt and Valit did the same. Something strange flickered in Kirk's eyes, then vanished.

Jim paced around the table slowly. A chill crept up Spock's spine, and Jim's voice was hard. "Mr. Spock. You said you have an... _explanation _for this mutiny?"

An explanation for mutiny? There was no such thing. Nonetheless; "Indeed, Sir. Dr. Harcourt and lieutenants Valit and Welkis are here as witness to my claims."

Kirk leaned back, crossing his arms. Mr. Scott entered. Spock attempted to find the appropriate words to describe his actions, strangely uneasy.

"It came to my attention, Sir, that the captain was abusing his authority. As I deemed it unwise to let his actions continue, I sought the most logical method to stopping them."

"Logical? How is mutiny _logical,_ might I ask?"

Spock began to answer with his reasons, but the captain held up a hand. "Rhetorical, Mr. Spock."

_Yet still I have an answer, _he thought, and a month ago he would have said so, but now he was silent. His heart was pounding.

"Captain." This came from Valit. Kirk looked at him, raising his eyebrows. "Sir, are you aware of the specifics of the report we sent to Starfleet?"

"No. Is this relevant?"

"Very. If your communications officer could get the report from ours and send it down here...?"

"Your communications officer is in on this, too? Very well." He tapped the comm. button. "Kirk to bridge."

"Sulu here."

"Have Uhura get the _Defiant's _report from their Communications Officer."

"Yes Sir."

McCoy during this stared at Spock, strangely, and now he abruptly stood.

"What, Bones?" Kirk asked, impatiently. Learning that his first had mutinied (again!) had not left him with a pleasant demeanour.

McCoy, despite this knowledge, did not answer. Instead he opened the flap of his black medical bag and withdrew his tricorder. He strode forward to hold it against Spock.

* * *

Modern medical technology had improved greatly in the past few centuries. It did not, however, completely fix things in an instant, and still there were traces enough of old hurts for instruments to pick up.

McCoy, observing Spock, thought he looked more uneasy to his trained eye than the Vulcan had a right to, even in these circumstances. As soon as Jim paused in his questioning he stood and took out his tricorder, ignoring Jim's question at his actions, and turning it on held it too the Vulcan.

Out of his mouth came enough expletives to make Jim turn red, Harcourt's eyes to bulge, Valit to gape, Scotty to stare in admiration, and Spock to actually raise _both_ eyebrows.

"Bones!" Jim came back to himself enough to stop him. "What is it?"

McCoy snapped his mouth shut, glaring at Jim so much that the proud starfleet captain actually recoiled, than turned back to Spock, his face red. "What the _hell _happened to you?"

"_That _is why we need the report," Valit told Kirk.

McCoy, still seething, whirled to Harcourt. "Don't look at me; I treated them to the best of my abilities, I couldn't keep him off duty without making the captain quite suspicious."

"What's going on here?" asked Scotty, bewildered. Just then the comm. whistled.

"Captain, the _Defiant's _report has been sent down."

"Thank you, Mr. Sulu."

Everyone else was silent. McCoy was apparently struggling with himself between looking at the report himself and staying next to Spock. His concern finally won over his curiosity, and he stayed put, still eyeing his tricorder with a grim expression.

Kirk looked now at the small screen in the briefing room on the table as the file was sent down. His face grew increasingly pale.

_Verbal assault... Physical violence... List of injuries... _

The pictures were worse - bruises splotched against the pale white of his first's skin, bones bent strangely out of place in ways that were not normally possible. He shuddered, staring at the words, neat and clinical, detailing the abuse, which had gone on for some two weeks, increasingly becoming more serious.

"_God..."_

Scotty moved to stand behin him and look at the screen as well, and what he said was hidden by his suddenly heavy accent, though it likely wasn't pleasant. McCoy wavered a moment, then had to come look himself. This time he said nothing, merely grasping his tricorder hard with white-knuckled hands.

The captain stared at the screen for a moment.

"Sir," Harcourt said, quietly, "I and my nurses can all attest to the validity of the - "

She fell silent as the captain looked at her, face strange and blank. "I'm sure. Harcourt, Valit, Welkis, please wait in the Ready Room. Mr. Scott...?"

"I need to check on the engines anyway, Cap'n," he said faintly. His eyes lingered on Spock as he walked by. His face was white.

Alone, the captain, doctor, and first officer were silent for a moment. McCoy stirred, then moved to check his tricorder readings again, and glad to have something to look at at, Kirk watched him.

McCoy frowned faintly. His heartbeat was dangerously high, even for a Vulcan. He reached into his black bag, found a mild sedative, and slowly moved to inject it into the Vulcan, careful to move so that Spock could see what he did the whole time. A part of him said that this wasn't necessary, it hadn't affected Spock, he was a _Vulcan,_ but that was just what he wanted to believe; the other half was running through every psych class he'd ever took, because if there _hadn't_ been any effects they had a cause for worry.

He slipped his tricorder into his pocket and waited.

* * *

Kirk noticed McCoy injecting Spock with a hypo. He found his voice. "McCoy, are there any - ?"

"His injuries were treated, but still need to finish healing, and with how many there are he's got to be in a good amount of pain," McCoy grunted, glaring at the report as though it were at fault. His hand moved down to Spock's shoulder, a rare gesture.

Kirk was quiet, staring unseeingly before him. Ganby had _physically abused _his first officer, his friend - and severely, too, by the look of it.

Giving comfort to a Vulcan, however, was not so easy a thing. Instead; "Frankly, I am glad you mutinied, then, Spock." He dropped the usual affectionate 'Mr.', trying to make the atmospere just a little less informal. "And I can certainly see your reasons. We'll keep Ganby in the brig. Until Starfleet calls to stay otherwise, they'll be no repercussions for you, but..."

"I understand, Sir." Spock said. His voice was still strange, disturbing; low, soft. His gaze was cast downward; he seemed determined not to meet Kirk's eyes.

He stood now, grasping his friend's shoulder, not knowing what to say, what to do, and could only look at an equally distraught McCoy helplessly.

_What now?_

* * *

Spock's half-lidded eyes watched the flame before him, hypnotizing, as he attempted to meditate. The effort was seeming increasingly futile. Despite all of his attempts, he could not seem to master his emotions. Furthermore, it seemed that his continuous failed attempts were having the opposite effect, by 'irritating' him at his failure. This had not happened since he was a child, after a particularly trying day, and for a moment he toyed with the idea of seeing Doctor McCoy to see if something was wrong, but dismissed the idea almost immediately. It could be physical, but though the thought was strange he believed it was a psychological issue, and in any case he had no desire to speak with the Doctor or Captain at the moment. But that was illogical, too.

His mind wandered now to the meeting in the briefing room. He had experienced that disturbing feeling of _cold, _though it was a usual temperature in the ship, and he had categorized the unpleasant sensation as _fear,_ perhaps one of the worst emotions to experience. He did not understand. There had been some logic, at least, to the emotion when in the briefing room on the _Defiant. _There he could rightfully expect to be verbally attacked and physically harmed, and be in no way able to reciprocate the treatment. Here, however, he knew with confidence that Kirk and McCoy and Scott would never think to harm him, and no one else on the Enterprise would either, if some only for fear of repercussion. He had _thought _he knew this, in any case. Why was he having these feelings?

* * *

**Review? Probably will only be one or two more chapters, I think.**


	6. Chapter 6

**_A/N: Last chapter! Sniffle. Big thanks to all reviewers, before now and later, and to answer previous inqueries; I realize Harcourt could theoreticallys have the powers to remove Ganby, but if security can be convinced to not enforce her orders, that wouldn't mean much, I'm thinking. Apologize beforehand for skimming over the trial, I have little idea on how it would work, so I'm basing it on 'the menagarie' and 'turnabout intruder', and they probably aren't the best sources, but still. Hope you enjoy the chapter!_**

**_Disclaimer; Do not own Star Trek, characters, places, etc. etc. etc..._**

* * *

Chapter Six

* * *

Kirk ran a hand through his hair, sighing. He needed to talk to his first officer, because he had a feeling that all of this was affecting the Vulcan more than it seemed, though the fact that you could _tell _that it affected Spock strongly - well, that was the most disturbing part. He hadn't seen him since Spock had left for his quarters yesterday. Commander Roland had been left in charge of the _Defiant _and the loyal crew of the other ship released, though they were not pleased with their shipmates. The _Defiant _would stay with the _Enterprise _until Starfleet could respond and issue orders about this rather unique situation.

He fiddled with one of the padds on his desk a moment, stood, walked over to his shelf, and stopped. He wavered a moment, then abruptly spun and stalked out the door. He needed to talk to Spock.  
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Spock recalled his emotions again during the various times he was in the briefing room on the _Defiant, _in an attempt to convince himself of the illogic of the emotion. He began with summoning the emotion, recalling his exact feelings. His heart began to quicken, so that he felt clearly the vein in his neck throbbing with his heart. He felt strangely weak, and though he had spent much energy, yet hyper alert; cold, as though he were ill. Worst was the strange _meekness, _which he realized at some point had stopped being completely fake. Now he could completely eradicate the feeling. First, he must discover all the reasons for this feeling, then - "

"Spock? Spock, can I speak with you?"

Spock's eyes snapped open.

He stared at the door a moment. The fear he had induced in his meditation was still strong within him. The captain could not talk to him now! He needed to rid himself of this emotion -

"Spock?"

He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to dispell the emotion, but it ebbed away slowly, and he could not allow the captain to wait forever. Slowly, he moved to the door, which opened at a hiss at his approach.

The captain smiled tightly. "May I come in?"

Spock stood aside, and the door hissed shut behind the captain.

Kirk took a deep breath, trying to find the right words, but immediately anything he had thought of beforehand flew from his mind as he looked at his first officer. He was pale, even for him, and were his hands _trembling? _That pon farr thing _was _only every seven years, right? "Spock? Are you alright?"

Spock barely heard the captain. His heart thudded in his ears. He tried to quell the emotion, this fear, but it threatened to consume him. For the forty-ninth time he tried to convince himself of it's wrongness; Kirk _would not hurt him. _Why could he not seem to believe that?

"I am well," He heard himself say, distantly. "Was there something you required, Captain?"

"I - no. I... Spock, first of all, I meant what I said in the briefing room" Even the _mention... _"I am _glad _that you mutinied, honestly. I wanted you to know that much; you did the right thing, even if the 'fleet might say otherwise." Obviously, he told himself, the captain was not angry, not upset, so there was no reason for worry, he was being illogical, he just needed to stay calm... He felt his pulse begin to slow, and it seemed some of his tension was starting to ease. "And if there's anything you want to talk about, Spock, my quarters are always open to you, you know."

"Thank you, Jim."

The Captain reached out to brush a hand on his shoulder affectionately, then slowly turned to leave. The fear left, the tension leaving his body as relief replaced it, and then strangely the world began to darken.

Kirk whirled around as he heard a loud _thud, _startled to see his first on the ground, then rushed to the comm. "Kirk to Sickbay! Emergency team in Mr. Spock's quarters now!"

He didn't even wait for confirmation, immediately descending on his friend, who had already begun to come to, blinking in open surprise as he shifted slightly.

"Spock?" His friend tried to rise, but he restrained him. "Stay still."

"Jim?" The Vulcan sounded baffled.

"Do you feel alright?"

Well, the fear seemed to be gone, at least. Although now his arm was rather sore; he had fallen on it awkwardly. "Yes, Jim. What...?"

"You just... collapsed." Kirk managed a terse smile. "Keep calm - " Spock raised an eyebrow, but he had a feeling Kirk was speaking more to himself " - I called medical, they'll be here any..."

The door hissed open again, three crew in blue rushing in, one hefting a stretcher. Kirk looked at it, then glanced speculatively at Spock, who just raised both his eyebrows, and Kirk held up his hands in defeat.

"Jim?" McCoy was with them, and the others hung back. "What happened?" He knelt, taking out his tricorder.

"He just _collapsed, _for no reason, when I started to leave..."

"Adrenaline," McCoy muttered to himself. He glanced back at the others, waving them away. "Get back to Sickbay, I can handle this." They trudged out, glancing back with worry, and McCoy turned back to Kirk. "A lot of adrenaline in his system. His system just couldn't take it. Probably doesn't help that he's under stress and appararently hasn't been eating or sleeping..."

"What?"

"Doctor, I assure you I have - "

"When was the last time you ate?" The Doctor interrupted.

Spock paused.

"Well?"

"...Eleven days, I believe, Sir."

"I see. Spock, I'm placing you under observation in Sickbay - "

The comm whirred.

"Bridge to Captain Kirk!"

Kirk hesitated, wavering, then rose and went over to the comm.

"Kirk here." He glanced at Spock anxiously.

"Sir, orders are in from Starfleet concerning the _Defiant. _Will you take them now?"

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"You are ordered to proceed to the nearest Starbase, keeping Ganby contained to the brig and Mr. Spock to either the brig or Sickbay, if he is not yet recovered. Impartial officers will convene there for a court martial of first Captain Ganby, then Mr. Spock, and from there it will be judged whether or not the rest of the _Defiant's _crew will be tried as well."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Kirk out." He turned back to the others. McCoy hovered as Spock rose, then nodded at Kirk, trying to hide his worry. "He'll be fine, Jim."

Kirk nodded, slowly.

"C'mon, Spock... eleven days, you damn masochist..."

* * *

McCoy leaned back against the wall as the door hissed shut and Spock sat down in Sickbay, in private room off to the side for those staying overnight. "So. Why exactly were you so strung out in there, would you like to tell me? Something was causing your adrenaline to start pumping good enough to knock you out."

Spock said, truthfully; "I was in the midst of meditation as the Captain interrupted. It was... merely poor timing."

"Hmm."

McCoy watched him, thoughfully. Spock was still, waiting for the other to speak.

Finally; "I think, Spock, that you're more shaken up by this than you'd like to admit."

Spock said nothing.

"That really threw you, didn't it? You've faced some prejudice before, but nothing like this."

"As always, Doctor, you attempt to see emotions which do not exist."

"What happened to Vulcans don't lie?" McCoy challenged. He subsided, tone going softer. "Don't be ashamed to admit it, Spock."

"Doctor, I was on the _Defiant _for a mere three weeks, during which only two of those weeks..."

"That's besides the point. Two weeks seems long enough to me."

There were a few low _bleeps _from a machine from behind McCoy in the main Sickbay. Finally, so softly he almost didn't hear; "I admit the experience was... disconcerting." Success. Relieved by this good sign, McCoy nodded reassuringly.

"As one might expect." McCoy looked at him. "Feel free to come out and chat, but would I be right in thinking you'd like to meditate?"

"Indeed."

McCoy pushed himself from the wall. "I'll leave you to it, then."

McCoy left. Spock folded his legs, slipping into meditation. This time he had no candle, but found the meditation process strangely easier now, and he sorted through his feelings without any further problems for the present.

* * *

"Honestly, Captain? I have no idea." Valit shook his head, sighing. "I mean, I suppose... Well, Ganby has... I wouldn't say he's shown any xenophobic attitudes before, not like this, but he certainly doesn't seem to _approve _of aliens, either, if you know what I mean, Sir. Kind of prefers to just... ignore them."

"Xenophobe or not," Welkis cut in, "He's just... He's not known, Sir, for being the kindest or most approachable of captains, lets put it that way."

"I see." Kirk frowned. "That doesn't help me much."

"Sir," said Harcourt, "This isn't exactly anything the crew was _completely _shocked by, let's leave it at that. There's plenty who are loyal to the captain, of course, if for no other reason than that he's the _captain_, but most generally accept the knowledge of the scandal last year, and I for one can personally vouch for it's authenticity."

"Scandal?"

"There was..." Valit glanced at Welkis. "Well, some unpleasant business with one of his unwilling yeoman, if you know what I mean...?"

Kirk stared. "And he's still _captain?"_

Welkis spread his hands helplessly. "He had alibis. I think a good portion of security are friends or connections of his, and at least the Chief is, so the rest will listen to their Head, of course. And he has connections in high places."

"This - this is Starfleet," Kirk said, looking completely bewildered. "The Admiralty - they wouldn't - "

"They had little choice, Sir. My accounts, it seems, weren't enough," Said Harcourt bitterly. "Or the testimony of the poor yeoman. There's been some worry from the yeomans still, and some swear he's been making some passes at them, and if some of them might be silly little girls others who swear the same are honest as can be. He's seemed to be careful, though, since he was let off at his trial; I can't imagine what made him snap and do this."

_Mr. Spock has the same wonderful luck as me, that's why, _Kirk thought. Aloud; "So, he's had previous charges against him? That should lean the trial in our favor, at least."

"Sir, I don't see how he could get off this time," Valit said, strangely fierce. "And if the Admiralty still gave him the finest ship in the 'fleet, once word of this gets out he wouldn't be able to convince a lemming to serve under him."

Kirk snorted, and Welkis nodded fiercely. "Sir, we have pictures, Mr. Spock's account, the word of the other bridge officers and I of what we saw, the Doctor and nurses, _and _at least a possible precedant to this for them to consider; Sir, I think this trial has already been decided.

And it seemed he was right. The day of the court martial Ganby received icy glares from all of the 'impartial' officers in attendance. Behind one of the fiercest of these eyes Kirk recognized the face of Admiral Trellin, who if he recalled rightly had served with Spock as the Science Officer when the Vulcan had first been assigned to the Enterprise, over a decade ago, and he hid a smile.

He took his seat with the other watchers, of which there were many; court martials such as this one were public to any in the 'fleet, and many had turned up from the _Enterprise _and _Defiant, _along with a few stationed on the base.

The charges were told by the most senior of the four Admirals, a graying man. Abuse of Authority was the main there; harassment of his crew, physical assault, etc. etc... then the main accuser, Spock, was called forward to give his testimony.

Ganby, watching with a failed attempt at a blank face, was turning slowly red as Spock spoke in calm, clinical terms of Ganby's doings, recalling the precise insults and words of Ganby when prodded by the Admiralty into use of his eidetic memory. He described the circumstances of the first physical blow, the mission before it, and Ganby's confrontation and accusations, word for word, including his command to speak to no one.

He then summarized the continuation of this, his almost immediate realization that it would grow worse, and that there was little he could do. Even openly declaring the offences would have no effect; whoever tried to stop Ganby would find themselves stopped, surely, by Ganby's loyal officers. However, he would not hide what was happening, as Ganby had perhaps assumed. So, _logically, _he had begun to recruit crewmembers for a mutiny - _which, _he emphasized, had been almost appallingly easy, surely saying something for Ganby's apparent ability as an officer. He recited the full list of injuries accumulated over the short time, making the Admiralty's faces darken, and offered pictures he had taken, which the Admirals examined. He described the circumstances of the actual mutiny, then their meeting with the _Enterprise, _and finally was finished.

Ganby, of course, refuted his claims. He agreed to the first blow as having happened, likely as it would be difficult to refute everything, but denied the rest, insisting that, ask anyone, he had not again laid a hand on the Vulcan. Harcourt, surely, would attest to that; Mr. Spock had only ever seen her for the one injury.

Harcourt came up. Ganby, as it was, had not known the full list of mutineers, though how Ganby had come to the conclusion that Spock had never had his injuries treated, he did not know - was the captain senile, to think that his broken finger had simply healed overnight? Much to Ganby's shock and displeasure, Harcourt politely informed the Admiralty that Mr. Spock had seen her for each of his listed injuries, actually, as her nurses could attest, and as they did. Roland, who had not taken part in the mutiny, also came forward to agree that Ganby had called Spock to the briefing room after each shift, much to the captain's mortification. Ganby tried, and failed, in refusing the claims as more crew of the _Defiant _offered their views.

The Admirals' decision was unanimous; Ganby was stripped of his rank and position as Starfleet Officer in dishonourable discharge and would face further time in a penal colony, much to the evident pleasure of all attending.

The trials, however, were not yet over. Next came Mr. Spock.

Still he was perhaps slightly uneasy around Ganby, but it had been a week since his conversation with McCoy, and he had dedicated his time off duty to intensive meditation. The fear seemed to have vanished for the most part, except slight flickers every now and again; and that, at least, was bearable.

"Commander Spock," said the Admiral solemnly. "You are charged with insubordination, mutiny, incite to mutiny..." He listed the charges.

Spock, as had been expected by most, did nothing to deny them, and for the second time detailed his circumstances. Several of the officers were called by the Admiralty for formality's sake for their testimonies. The Admiral left to confer, this lasting considerably longer than that of Ganby's trial.

The Admirals stood. Trellin seemed to be hiding a smile.

"Commander Spock, you are found guilty of the charges set against you. As such, given these circumstances consideration, you are to be reduced in rank to Lieutenant Commander and put on probation. Dismissed."

The next time Captain Kirk called him into the called him into the briefing room (to grin and congratulate him and ramble a little on how glad he was) Spock did not feel the slightest hint of apprehension, and did not even notice this until much later, though it took a time for the effects of his stay to fade; and, though he would admit it to no one but eventually McCoy, his sleep was disturbed by one or two unpleasant dreams.

One month later, back on duty again, Mr. Spock saved the life of his captain on a mission, a common occurance. He was lauded by his superiors and awarded with a promotion.

* * *

**For the fainting thing; a doctor informed me that feeling extremely nervous and then suddenly completely relieved has some chemical effect that can make you faint. I didn't quite get what he said, but it definitely happens. A little depressed to finish the story, so I'll probably have to post another soon, and likely stick Valit in there somehow, because even if he was barely mentioned I'm strangely attached to him. *grins***

**Reviews?**


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